King Skule.
I come.
The Townsmen.
And the church-robber must come too
King Skule.
Ay, the church-robber shall come too. [Goes over to Peter.] My son, are you ready?
Peter.
Ay, father, I am ready.
King Skule.
[Looks upwards.] O God, I am a poor man, I have but my life to give; but take that, and keep watch over Håkon's great king's-thought.—See now, give me your hand.
Peter.
Here is my hand, father.
King Skule.
And fear not for that which is now to come.
Peter.
Nay, father, I fear not, when I go with you.
King Skule.
A safer way have we two never trodden together. [He opens the gate; the Townsmen stand without with upraised weapons.] Here are we; we come of our own free will;—but strike him not in the face.
[They pass out, hand in hand; the gate glides
to.
